Throne
by Mini Mo xx
Summary: Merry is contemplating the meaning of the Throne, and comes up with a plan, but doesn't see a secret coming out of it.


Merry stood in the middle of the Great Hall of Edoras, staring at the throne, where King Théoden used to sit. He had tears in his eyes; it was only a day until the funeral. What did that even mean, what would the funeral of a King be like? He had only been to a few funerals, all of Hobbits, none of men, none of Elves, and certainly not one of a King, and a great King at that. Merry looked down at his Rohirrim armour; he had been there when Théoden died, so that made it even worse. He stood there, beside the King in the middle of battle, orc blood all over him, and he couldn't do anything to help him. The man could have been sitting where Merry was now looking if he had actually _done _something.

He approached the throne, usually occupied by the new King, but was now empty. He looked at it closely; golden, comfortable-looking. He thought if Pippin was here, then they would have no doubt been sitting on the throne by now, laughing and smoking on it, and Eomer would have scorned them, and they probably would have been kicked out of Edoras or something.

Last time they were both in the Great Hall together, it had gone so wrong. But that was all done and gone now. Frodo and Sam had done it, they had destroyed the Ring and saved Middle Earth; no looking back now.

He sighed and turned back towards the doors and sat on a chair in the far corner, still staring at the throne of Rohan. Merry thought that maybe one day, he would love to be a King. He remembered all the old stories he heard from his dad about the Kings of Old, and of the Gondorian Kings before the line was taken over by Stewards. The Royal families were always looked up to, seen as something God-like. It was a power that was high and mighty, the King was high in power, rich, strong, and protected like no other. Just like Aragorn was going to be quite soon in Gondor.

"Maybe one day, somehow," Merry told himself with a smile and he stood up. "King Meriadoc Brandybuck of the Shire." The name seemed fitting, he thought to himself. He liked it.

Maybe he should try and make himself King of the Shire. What a wonderful thing it would be. If, of course, he could ever make such a plan work; saying that, Pippin could probably think of something.

"Pip, what do you think of 'King Meriadoc Brandyback of the Shire'?" Merry asked his cousin with a smile. He looked at his cousin with a look of triumph on his face.

"I think it…sounds good, Merry, but rather impossible. Us hobbit's don't have Kings," Pippin replied, munching his way through an apple. Merry frowned and looked around; he wanted an apple too.

"I know, but why not make one now? I think I would be a great King. Like Théoden, or Aragorn will be. Don't you think?" Merry asked, scowling as he found an apple, but it meant he had to get up and get it. He did, and when he had the apple, he bit into it, watching Pippin intently as he thought about Merry's plan.

"Merry, you'd make a great King, but how in the world will you become a King? We are only two hobbits," Pippin said, a tone of sympathy in his voice.

"That's where we could do this, together, Pip," Merry smiled down at his cousin. As the taller of the two, and he was now standing, he had a vast height difference against Pippin, and that he liked; it meant he could have authority and make all the plans. He watched Pippin smile in thought while he bit his apple. Merry smiled back, his chest practically expanding with the surge of love he suddenly felt for his cousin; Pippin was a good little hobbit, yet to come of age, but still, he was the other half of Merry, and he couldn't think of doing a single thing without him.

Well, apart from the war, where he was split from Pippin by Gandalf, but still, they found each other in the end, and it had always been Merry's plan to fight for not only Middle Earth – and Frodo and Sam – but for Pippin, he needed to get back to Pippin, and the only way he could see to do that was to ride to war and fight his way to his cousin. Because that's what they did, him and Pip, they fought to be together, they fought for each other, and they would never be split up again. Never.

"Try it out, Merry," Pippin nodded to the throne, a wide smile lighting up his cheeky face. Merry frowned, staring again at the throne.

"I don't want to get caught by King Eomer," Merry said, shaking his head. "He might not be as…nice as Théoden." He laughed nervously, oh, how much he wanted to sit on that throne, where his good friend had once sat, telling Merry the tales of Rohan, of his world and his wars. Merry could be like that, one day, telling his children, his grandchildren, his friends, of the tales of the War of the Ring, of the waking of the Ents, of the war at Gondor, the travels he had as a young hobbit, of saving the world so they could be in this world and where they are now.

"Just try it, just once," Pippin insisted. Merry looked at him and his hopeful expression. "If you are ever going to be King Meriadoc, then you have to at least try it out. The King won't mind."

Merry sighed and rolled his eyes, discarding the half eaten apple to Pippin's hands and he scuttled over to the throne. He looked at the seat, beautifully carved with the Rohirric symbol of horses in the wood, the colours in the seat itself and he smiled. His longing to sit in the seat, even for just a moment, was rising, until finally he couldn't take it anymore.

"Just once, not for long," Merry nodded, licking his lips as Pippin approached. He turned and lowered himself into the big throne. It was far too big for his small hobbit frame, but to Merry, it felt right instantly. He smiled, sitting in the throne of the Rohirrim, the place he had helped fight for, the home of his dear friend…

"What does it feel like, Merry?" Pippin asked, the excitement radiating from his face. Merry looked around before letting his eyes fall on his cousin, and he smiled.

"Sit with me, Pippin, look," Merry moved over so they could both fit on the throne. Pippin sat and Merry put his arm around Pip's waist, feeling so comfortable on the seat, maybe a little too comfortable, but hey, it felt right; him, Pippin, on a throne…this could work out.

"You're right, Merry, you should be King," Pippin nodded. "It feels good. You'd make a good one too."

Merry looked at Pippin from his side of the throne and smiled. "Pip, you stupid hobbit, you would also be King, you know."

"What?" Pippin asked, his brow furrowing in confusion. He looked at Merry with question filled eyes, his confusion staring daggers into Merry's.

"And what are two hobbits from the Shire doing on the throne of Rohan?" The hobbits looked across to see Lady Eowyn watching them with a smile on her face.

Both Merry and Pippin stood quickly, looking down at their feet, trying to look as innocent as possible.

"Do not stand on my account, little ones," she said with a smile, approaching them. "I thought you looked quite…fitting up there. Kings Merry and Pippin of the Shire."

"That's what I've been trying to tell Pip," Merry said, looking at his Lady's face, widened in a smile. "I think we would make good Kings of the Shire, My Lady."

Eowyn laughed; a light, airy, honest laugh that could have just about lit up the entire hall if it were full of people. "Off you go, you two, my brother will be here soon, and I'm sure he wouldn't like to see you two swanning around near the throne. Come." She laughed, ushering the two hobbits out of the Great Hall.

"What did you mean, Merry?" Pippin's whisper – or what would be classed as just a hushed voice, but in Pip's world is a whisper – breaks the silent of the night outside the Great Hall. Neither hobbit's could sleep that night, the night before Théoden's funeral, so the two of them took outside the Great Hall of Rohan, sitting with their feet dangling off the side of the wall.

"Mean with what, Pip?" Merry asked, looking across the sky at where Mordor used to lie, the orange glow no longer there, just a dark sky now, matching the rest of the Middle Earth sky…peaceful, happy, normal.

"When you said I would be King as well? Surely there can only be one King. Even in the Shire," Pip asked, his voice splintered with utter confusion. Merry smiled and looked at Pippin; his heart expanding, his stomach fluttering with butterflies. He loved Pippin more than anything in this world; even his own country. As long as Merry had Pip, everything in this world would be good, and better, and how it should be. They could still be in Isengard, or even Mordor as it was, but if Pip was by his side, then Merry could handle it.

"Peregrin Took, what was it Gandalf used to say?" Merry smirked.

"He used to call me a Fool of a Took," Pippin said, looking into his lap, as if caught red handed. "What did I do this time, Merry?"

Merry frowned and put his hand lightly on Pippin's chin, moving it up so he could look at him. He took his hand away and smiled warmly at his cousin. He looked into his green eyes, seeing the innocence, the hurt, even through everything that happened during the war, Pippin was still a young, innocent little hobbit, and that was one of the things Merry loved about him; no matter what they went through, no matter what happened to them – being taken by the Uruks, watching Frodo nearly die quite a few times, being parted, fighting a war – Pippin still kept his sense of innocence and his hobbit qualities, and it warmed Merry's insides to no end.

"Merry?" Pippin asked.

Merry looked at his cousin again and couldn't work out how he could tell him. Maybe he should just say it, no curving around the subject, just telling him the truth? Or maybe he should just say nothing?

No, nothing was not an option; Merry had to tell him. And it had to happen now. But how? He looked at his feet again, bracing himself. He wouldn't think about it, he would just say it. Like the hobbit he was, he would just do.

"Pip, I need to talk to you, about something that I think you know deep down, but we've never spoke of before." Merry said, still looking at his feet.

"Okay, Merry, what is it?" Pippin asked.

"Pip, I love you," Merry said, closing his eyes. He could feel the tears film over his eyes even with the lids closed.

"I love you too, Merry. I've always known that, I mean…"

Merry interrupts his cousin by looking at him, his eyes opened and tears spilling out like little streams. "Pip, I mean, I really love you. Like the real deal, you know? Like Aragorn loves Arwen, like Lady Eowyn love Captain Faramir, like…like real love. True love. Pip, I love you, you fool of a Took." He smiles, sniffing back a few more tears, but it was no use, they still fell.

Pippin was silent and stared at his feet for a few moments, each moment like a sting in the chest to Merry, just waiting for the answer from his cousin.

"Merry, I…I have always known, for I have felt the same about you too, but I…I…" the younger hobbit's voices trailed off, not wanting to say anything more. He stood instead and held onto his forehead, unsure of what to say. "I need to sleep, Merry."

"Okay," Merry nodded, standing up and facing his cousin. He watched Pippin for a minute before leaning over, pressing a soft kiss into Pippin's soft brown curls on his head. "I love you, Peregrin Took."

"I love you, Merry," Pippin responded, though even Pippin himself didn't know the extent to which that statement was true. The younger hobbit looked up at his taller cousin and leaned forward, pressing a small kiss onto Merry's lips.

The older hobbit's body almost froze at the small contact, but he quickly settled into the kiss, responding with a soft kiss back, but being careful; he didn't want to overstep the mark with him, because he knew Pippin was confused.

The kiss only lasted two more moments before the younger hobbit took a light step back and smiled at his cousin.

"We will make you King, Merry, you will be a good one," Pippin said softly. "Unless of course, the plan doesn't work, then you can just be the Mayor."

Merry laughed out loud, his tears drying up now. "That would be equally as fun, Pippin. Go to bed." Pippin nodded and walked back into the Great Hall, while Merry stayed on the spot, looking out over Rohan.

Maybe Pippin was right; he may not get to be King, but he could be the Mayor. When he would be Mayor, he could make all his loyal hobbits make him a throne, and be the King, just without the title or a crown.

Sorted.


End file.
